Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE ARGOSY Vol. CXVII ~ y, ae ————— A Man to SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1920 ae - * a No. 3 ATUL "— am? 1S ate J. Allan Dunn Author of “ Isle of Drams,"* “* The Butterfly Orchid,” etc. CHAPTER I. BLIND SAMSON, e T was perfect weather along the San Francisco water-front, and Rainey reacted to the brisk touch of the trade- wind upon his cheek, the breeze tempering the sun, bringing with it a tang of the open sea and a hint of Oriental ‘spices from the wharves. He whistled as he went, watch- ing a lumber coaster outward bound. The dull thump of a heavy cane upon the timbered walk and the shuffle of uncertain feet warned him from blundering into a man tapping his way along the Embarca- dero, a giant who halted abruptly and faced him, leaning on the heavy stick. ‘“ Matey,” asked the giant, “‘ could you put a blind man in the way of finding the sealin’ schooner Karluk?”’ The voice fitted its owner, Rainey thought—a deep voice tempered to the occasion, a deep-sea voice that could bellow above the roar of a gale if needed. For all his shoregoing clothes and shuffle, the man was certainly a sailor, or had been. All the skin uncovered by cloth or hair was weath- 1 Arcosy ered to leather, the great hands curled in as if they clutched an invisible-rope. He wore dark glasses with side lenses, over which heavy brows projected in shag gey wisps of red hair. Blind as the man proclaimed himself with voice and action, Rainey sensed something back of those colored glasses that seemed to be appraising him, almost as if the will of the man was peering, or listening, focused through those listless sockets. A kind of magnetism, not at all attractive, Rainey decided, even as he offered help and information. ‘“Youw’re not fifty yards from the Kar- luk,” Rainey replied. ‘ But you’re bound in the wrong direction. Let me put you right. I’m going that way myself.” ‘“That’s kind of ye, matey,” said the other. ‘“ But I picked ye for that sort, hearin’ you whistlin’ as you came swingin’ along. Light-hearted, I thinks, an’ young, most likely; he’ll help a stranded man. Give me the touch of yore arm, matey, an’ I’ll stow this spar of mine.” He swung about, handle of the stick over his right elbow 321 Go NOOK slinging the curving’ (C@